


Flower of the Slum

by icoffeeprince



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 03:53:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8430784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icoffeeprince/pseuds/icoffeeprince
Summary: Thomas Shelby returns from the war a changed man, aloof and of few words. Between managing his ever-growing organization and managing his own personal torment, he hasn't got the time for love and the like.  Enter Lili, beloved resident of Chinatown, to give him a taste of a different perspective on life in Birmingham, introduced into dangers beyond any the Peaky Blinders have ever been involved in.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, everyone! Please pardon my ill-written story. I'm getting back into writing again, and hopefully soon, I'll get back into the swing of things so I can better entertain. Enjoy!

The day my life took a turn for the certain better and also for the certain worst was the day I had the luck of encountering a member of the Peaky Blinders, an infamous Romani gang in Birmingham that instilled fear and awe into those who have heard of their organization. A cruel and violent group, they were not ones to be trifled with.  
It was as dull a day as any other in dreary Birmingham, the morning sky a thick grey of clouds, shielding the sun dutifully. A heavy mist had settled in the forest and showed no signs of dispersing anytime soon;, almost a lonesome atmosphere with the ringing silence reverberating among the trees. Fortunately, the cotton cardigan I had thrown on sufficed as far as warmth was concerned. As for the absence of company, it suited me just as well; it left me with the freedom and comfort to wallow in self-indulgence as I hummed tunes and sang ridiculous soprano notes without worry of being heard.  
I knelt and carefully searched the flowerbed I had planted several years ago, a variety of flowers I used for medicinal purposes at a small herbal shop run by an old man in Chinatown. Chrysanthemum, Saint John's Wort, rosa chinensis, lilium lancifolium. One by one, they dropped neatly into the basket beside me. It was a moment of reprieve from all the hubbub in the city, a moment to find peace and serenity in the stillness of the forest. Because of its location deep into the thickness of the trees, the chances of a passerby were quite minimal. There had only ever been a small handful of people that I had ever come across, and none had ever found enough interest in what I was doing to wander over and snoop.  
I picked up the half-full basket and moved to the other side of the bed, kneeling once again and brushing away fallen leaves. As I began procuring the best flowers, there was a sudden crunch to my left. My head snapped in its direction, keeping my composure. Not more than a couple dozen feet away from me was a pale-faced man in a 3-piece suit and flat cap. He took some steps towards me, and I stood up cautiously, keeping my eyes on him in case of any abrupt movements.  
Only when he was directly before me did I notice the cigarette between his lips, the smoke rising and coalescing with the mist. My gaze skimmed over his gaunt face quickly before nervously falling back to the flowerbed. He said nothing, merely watching me as he continued his smoke. Once he felt he had had enough, he dropped it onto the ground carelessly, and I froze when my arm impulsively reached out for the remains. I swallowed and continued my action, picking it up off the floor and tucking it away into a fold in my basket.  
I looked him in the eyes at this moment and spoke up. "It's not the best for the environment here. If you don't mind."  
His face remained unreadable and stern almost, but his striking blue eyes sent my nerves into a frenzy I fought to control. Something about them made me anxious. I looked away from him again and turned away, busying myself with the flowerbed once more. I had to think of an escape in case he tried anything funny. What could he want?  
The man suddenly knelt beside me, surveying the flowers. His shoulder pressed against mine as he took a deep breath through his nose, slowly exhaling. I paid him no mind as my clumsy fingers wove through the stems and pulled them from the ground. He was composed and had an elegance about him even squatting beside me, a long, slender finger rubbing his clean-shaven chin.  
"Yours?" he said suddenly, staring at a group of calla lilies.  
"Yes," I replied.  
"For what purpose?"  
"Herbal." We stayed in silence for a bit longer as I continued picking, making my way around the flowerbed. I grew accustomed to his presence after deciding he meant no harm, near forgetting him as my basket grew fuller. A few minutes more and he stood up, straightening his tweed jacket and pants. I looked up and followed suit, encouraging myself to keep eye contact.  
"Do you sell them?" He looked straight into my eyes, unwavering. Something about him exuded confidence and fearlessness; something about him was admirable with the way he held himself.  
"I'm afraid not," I answered, uncertain of what he meant.  
"Maybe we can make a deal."  
I cocked my head to the side. "A deal?"  
"I have some women I could please with these."  
Women? Was he one of those wealthy men that kept two women on each arm? I couldn't deny the irritation it caused me to hear that. It may even have shown in my expression as I could feel my bottom lip stiffen. He glanced away from me and back at the blooming flowers.  
"Well, perhaps my aunt and my sister aren't so simple as to be pleased by fleeting beauties."  
Oh. He had only meant his family.  
I pressed my lips together, hesitant.  
"A deal then?" he repeated, returning his gaze to me as I squatted back down, absentmindedly prodding a dewy leaf.  
"What kind of deal?" At this, I could see from the corner of my eyes that a faint smile had crept onto his weary face.  
"What do you desire?"  
I thought silently for a moment, completely still before answering. "There isn't anything I want. Nothing I can't get on my own, nothing I can get from you."  
"That is a bit of a predicament."  
Without further consideration of the matter, I deftly plucked a bundle of flowers and twined a vine around to keep it together. I stood up and thrust it into his arms shyly, rubbing my arm and looking away.  
"The yellow and purple ones there.... You can make a nice tea out of it. It'll... probably help with your insomnia." I looked at him, his blue eyes slightly widened in surprise. I couldn't bring myself to break away and smiled politely. "If it doesn't help, come find me. I'll have several other herbs you could give a try."  
"That's quite thoughtful of you. I'll keep that in mind."  
The man raised the bouquet at me in thanks, turning and walking away leisurely. I knelt to the floor again, picking the remains of what I needed, completely thrown off by the unexpected encounter.  
"Oh, yes. And one more thing." I glanced up at the man several feet away from me, turning back to look at me as he spoke his last words. "When you can think of something, come find me. Ask for the man named Thomas Shelby."


End file.
